


Learning to know

by ThebanSacredBand



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Enjolras, Friends to Lovers, Greysexual Enjolras, M/M, Not-Friends to Lovers, POV Enjolras, Vignette, mention of sobriety, sexuality is fluid and also ace people can have sex send tweet, very brief sex reference I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23990779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThebanSacredBand/pseuds/ThebanSacredBand
Summary: Enjolras and Grantaire, and how their relationship changes.A series of mostly unconnected episodes, in chronological order.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44
Collections: 2020 Same-Prompt Fic Challenge





	Learning to know

**Author's Note:**

> For the Same-Prompt Fic Challenge organised by [Shitpostingfromthebarricade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShitpostingfromtheBarricade/pseuds/ShitpostingfromtheBarricade) (thank you so much!!!) with the prompt "I didn't know you could do that"!
> 
> I came into this with no plan, and this _happened_ so like, here it goes!

“Wow. I didn’t know _you_ could do that.”

“Do what?” Enjolras asks, hearing Grantaire sidle up beside him where he is currently standing by the wall in Courfeyrac and Marius’ apartment. They are having a party, the way that Courfeyrac likes to do sometimes, and while Enjolras has never been one to dance he is enjoying watching their friends as they move around to Courf’s Spotify playlist.

“You know, Apollo. Relax for five minutes.” Enjolras can feel his mouth twist into a grimace, even as his eyes remain trained on Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta attempting to dance, all holding each-others hands while avoiding Bossuet’s clumsy feet.

He thought… He thought that they’d moved past this. This teasing which crossed the line, which felt rude and mean and course. He didn’t… he didn’t want that. He _hated_ it. It is so easy for the two of them to be pulled into a rude semi-banter, and it always ends up with one of them saying something that cuts deep but they don’t really mean.

So instead of answering with a terse “maybe you would have known, if you hadn’t been drunk so often”, as his brain produces without his consent, he doesn’t respond at all.

Beside him, Grantaire is bizarrely quiet for all of thirty seconds, which might be a record for him in a one-to-one situation, and if Enjolras was a few years younger he might have commented on it. The rest of the room is chatting and dancing and singing along to Uptown Funk, but Grantaire’s silence forms a bubble of tension around them.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that,” says Grantaire, eventually.

It is with these words that Enjolras finally turns his head to look at Grantaire. The man is leaning on the wall beside him, almost mirroring Enjolras’ pose, a bottle of Coke clutched in his left hand. His right hand is playing with the lid, twisting it round and round in dexterous fingers. Grantaire is staring down at that hand like it holds the secrets of the universe. Or maybe just like he can’t look Enjolras in the eye.

“I mean. I do. I just. This is what we do, right? We make comments we probably shouldn’t and then have a fight and ruin the party for everyone else? I- Sorry.” He grimaces, still staring at where the bottle cap winds around his fingers. Enjolras can’t seem to tear his eye away from the side of Grantaire’s face. “I just, sometimes I don’t know where we stand, anymore.”

Enjolras doesn’t know what to say. It’s not a feeling he experiences very often.

Grantaire pulls his face into a tight smile, and leaves. He still does not look up at Enjolras.

Enjolras finds himself staring at the wall next to him for a long time.

“Huh. I didn’t _know_ you could do that.”

“What are you talking about _now_ , Grantaire?” Enjolras’ sigh from the front of the room was probably a tad more dramatic than it should have been. But, in his defence, it was Grantaire’s fifth interjection in the past hour, and seemed to be, like the others, apropos of nothing.

The first time had been to show everyone a meme. The second had been a remark about a news article about the upcoming election that he was reading on his phone. Which was interesting, yes, but still a deviation considering they were trying to discuss the protest they were organising for next month. The third and fourth times had also been memes.

It’s not that he doesn’t love Grantaire, just like he loves the rest of the Amis. They’re his family, more so than anyone he is technically related to. He’s never really felt the _other_ kind of love, the one that people tend to expect, but it doesn’t matter. His friends mean the world to him.

It’s just that he really wanted to get through everything _before_ everyone started chatting and socialising for the evening. Once everyone stops paying attention to the task at hand and talk among themselves instead, it’s always huge task to get them back on track.

“Oh, sorry, Apollo, it’s just that…”

Enjolras tunes his words out, rolling his eyes as everyone reacts with amazement at Grantaire’s statement. Grantaire flashes him a grin, and he rolls his eyes again, more deliberately, but he can’t help but return the smile.

He doesn’t bother trying to recapture his audience. There will be time later, to discuss and finalise plans. Sometimes, just sitting, surrounded by his friends, is worth it.

“Well, Apollo, I have to say that I did _not_ know you could do that.”

“Hmm?” says Enjolras, looking up from his laptop. The sky outside of the window is darker than he had expected. The meeting had officially ended quite a while ago, and Enjolras had lost track of the time again. He was normally the last one left in the café anyway. He wasn’t always that best at interacting with people, but he likes just _being_ around his friends, even when he’s working.

It is Grantaire who had spoken. He’s the only other person still here left. He used to always be the first to go, off to a bar or a club or wherever it is that he liked to spend his time. Now, though…

Now though, he’s sober, and he’s been spending more time here with the group. Enjolras knows he struggled with it, and he’s quite _proud_ of him, not that he’d ever say so out loud.

“I said,” says Grantaire, pulling out one of the other chairs at the table Enjolras is at and sitting on it backwards, “I didn’t know you could do that.”

Enjolras raises an eyebrow. Or, well, he tries to. He knows that normally when he attempts to do so both of them go up and he tilts his head weirdly, and that is probably what he’s doing right now. “Do what, exactly?”

“I. Uh.” Grantaire pauses. It’s as though he started the conversation with no thought as to the direction it would inevitably go. “You know. Put up with me interrupting you like that.”

Enjolras shrugs a little. It’s a valid question to ask. Once upon a time, he would have kicked up a hell of a fuss. “We’re not right on the edge of doing something, we have weeks before the protest. And I like to think I’ve calmed down a little.”

He gives a small, probably self-deprecating, smile. Grantaire flashes one back.

Grantaire walks him back to his apartment, and they don’t even start debating _once_.

“Oh! Hi Grantaire! I… I didn’t know you _could_ do that.”

“You didn’t know I could play guitar?” Grantaire replies, one eyebrow raised in the way that Enjolras can’t get his face to perform, tone incredulous. He is sitting beneath a tree in the park, said guitar perched on his lap. Enjolras had gone for a walk, wanting to enjoy the unseasonal good weather while it lasted, and when he saw Grantaire somewhere unexpected, he had just said the first thing that came into his mind.

He really wishes that he hadn’t.

Enjolras feels himself blush. Grantaire’s musical abilities were something that he really should have known. They’ve been friends for five years now – well, they’ve _known_ each-other for five years now, and they’re definitely probably friends, but Enjolras isn’t sure when that started – and he should definitely have known that Grantaire could play guitar at this point.

He’s. _Shit_. He’s awful at this. Enjolras _doesn’t know_ things like this about Grantaire. He knows them about their other friends. He knows that Jehan’s favourite poet is Lord Byron and that Bahorel has a soft spot for watching _The Great British Sewing Bee_ and that Feuilly is working on building a new cabinet for his tiny apartment. But Grantaire? He’s always been an enigma. They’ve always been at each-other’s throats. He’s never had the chance to _learn_.

His thoughts must play out on his face, because Grantaire’s expression softens. He pats the grass beside him.

“Come sit down, Apollo. I’ll teach you a few chords.”

Enjolras, almost surprising himself, takes the peace offering for what it is, and sits down.

“I. I just. I didn’t know _I_ could do… that.”

Grantaire doesn’t reply, as if he knows that Enjolras isn’t finished talking yet. Which Enjolras hadn’t even realised himself until he was given the space to say it.

“I’ve just. I’ve never felt this way before, and growing up I thought I was _broken_ and then I found out that I wasn’t, and I _know_ there’s nothing wrong with this, with _me_ changing and sexuality is fluid and I _do_ want you, I _do_ , it’s just. It’s a bit. I feel like I’ve got to find myself again, now. If that makes sense.”

He’s rambling, and he’s picking at the specks of dirt under his fingernails – and he really should cut those soon – and his eyes are focused on anywhere that _isn’t_ Grantaire, until the man himself makes a vague sound at the back of his throat. When he looks up, Grantaire spreads his arms, and Enjolras falls into an embrace that would have been unthinkable a few months ago, but now feels like the most natural thing in the world.

“Take all the time you need, _ange_. I’ll wait for you. And if you come to the conclusion that you _don’t_ , then that’s fine too.”

His hand is strong on Enjolras’ back, and Enjolras is fairly certain that he _won’t_ come to the conclusion that Grantaire is something he doesn’t want.

“I didn’t… oh! Grant _aire_ – I didn’t know you could _do_ that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Let me know with a kudos/comment, and/or find me on tumblr at [thebansacredbanned](https://thebansacredbanned.tumblr.com/)!


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